


i'll never wake up from him

by MayWilder



Series: where we go when he closes my eyes [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Oliver is a romantic, Perciver - Freeform, Too much talk of moonlight, little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 10:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16785241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayWilder/pseuds/MayWilder
Summary: Percy blinks and another tear falls. His skin is pale as always, he’s too thin, and he looks a sort of beautiful that feels tragic in the moonlight. In the day, Percy is like any other dorky man who wants to read books and research in his spare time. Glasses sit askew, and carrot curls never properly sit. In the moonlight?He looks ethereal. Pale skin seems to shimmer, and every copper curl knows its place.Oliver can’t breathe.





	i'll never wake up from him

“I didn’t come to you after the battle because I didn’t think you’d want me.”

Oliver is half-asleep until Percy speaks. He blinks awake and rolls to his side to see the red head staring at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom. A single tear is leaking out of the corner of his eye. Oliver follows the track of it towards his ear.

“I thought we already covered all of the reasons I love you?” he tries to sound lighthearted, but Percy is having none of it.

“We hadn’t spoken since that day, by the mountains in Hogsmeade. I’d heard what people in the Order had said about me, knew you must have heard as well. Fred was dating Angelina. You would have known everything at the time, as well as all those things Skeeter said about me.”

_“Oliver, there’s something you should know about Percy.”_

_Oliver looks up at Angelina, who has just used her spare key to enter his flat. Angelina hasn’t mentioned Percy since Oliver cried into her school robes about the break up. Despite her being a couple years younger, they’ve stayed as close as brother and sister since he graduated, and she visits often._

_“He’s gone a bit rogue. He suggested to his family that they cut ties with Harry and Dumbledore. Had a huge row with his dad, ended up cutting ties with his family. He walked out on them, Ollie.”_

_Oliver thinks about how Percy used to literally lose hair trying to impress his family, used to have anxiety attacks where he scratched his skin hard enough to bleed because he wouldn’t ever be good enough for his siblings. His interests weren’t good enough, his career was going to be wrong, Fred and George were more in every way—_

_“That makes sense.” Oliver looks Angelina square in the eye._

_“He chose his job security over his family! Over Harry!"_

_“He’s just doing what Fred and George always said he would do.”_

_“I can’t believe you’re defending him.”_

_“I’m not defending him, but I don’t see how it’s surprising. When you treat someone terribly and then someone else comes along and makes lovely promises when you only ever had insults, they are going to go with the lovely promises.”_

_Angelina storms out and doesn’t speak with him for three weeks._

“I’ve always been partial to your side of the argument,” Oliver says softly.

“Yes,” Percy sighs. “You would be the type to be blinded by your love and loyalty. I’m sure Angelina loved that.”

“She came around.”

“Doubtful.”

“We simply didn’t talk about it. She loved Fred and I loved you, she knew that.”

“She’s visited me twice. Says Fred missed me and loved me.”

“So I heard.”

“It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” he asks. “I was with Fred when he—well, I was there. Angelina or George should have been with him. I didn’t deserve to have the last laugh, the last smile.”

“Maybe it was fair,” Oliver suggests. He lets his hands trail up Percy’s bare chest and tries to stifle the emotion at being able to touch and love again. “George and Angelina will always have years that you didn’t. If you were going to lose him, you should be thankful you had those moments to carry. Those laughs. Wasn’t George happy that Fred died with a smile on his face? It’s how he would have wanted it to happen, I think.”

Percy blinks and another tear falls. His skin is pale as always, he’s too thin, and he looks a sort of beautiful that feels tragic in the moonlight. In the day, Percy is like any other dorky man who wants to read books and research in his spare time. Glasses sit askew, and carrot curls never properly sit. In the moonlight?

He looks ethereal. Pale skin seems to shimmer, and every _copper_ curl knows its place.

Oliver can’t breathe.

“I’ve missed talking,” Percy says then. He turns his head to look at Oliver. His eyes are silver instead of blue. Just another effect of the moon. _Goddamn you, Percy Weasley_. “To you, I mean. Free of judgement or ridicule. Lying next to you in a bed and sorting out my thoughts always helped my mess of a head.”

“Aside from the night with Harry, how’s that been?” Oliver is almost scared to address it in a moment of serenity. He doesn’t know if Percy’s triggers have changed, so he’s been waiting for the Weasley man to be the one to bring it up.

“Sometimes it creeps under the surface and it’s a strain to keep it controlled. I feel tightly wound, ready to snap. Other times, it isn’t even there. I’ve been seeing a muggle therapist, and Harry taught me a trick to ground my thoughts.”

Oliver presses a kiss to Percy’s shoulder. “It’s been helping, then?"

“Yes. I’m trying to understand who I want to be, reconcile the perfectionist with someone who wants to relax and help with the joke shop. George and I are actually talking about products that are helpful for mental health, in light of the war.”

“Like a potion that makes you relive your best memory, to combat the worst,” Oliver suggests.

Percy hums. “Or maybe any truly good memory. Maybe memories in something like a pensieve that can produce good dreams from good memories to overtake the bad.”

“Like first kisses,” Oliver teases. Percy gives him an affectionate look. “That’d be the memory I wanted to dream about. Our first kiss.”

**_I’m kissing Percy, I’m kissing my best mate, I’m kissing Percy!_ **

_“You never wear any clothes,” Percy moans as Oliver works his way down his neck. “So, so frustrating, Ollie.”_

_“I’m sorry,” Oliver says, not at all sorry._

_“Liar.”_

_“You’re my best mate, I’m just comfortable with you.” Oliver pulls back to look at Percy, flushed and lips wet. His eyes are still alert as ever. “We’ve slept in each other’s beds enough, I didn’t think that having just my pants would change anything. Then you stopped talking to me.”_

_“It was hard,” Percy whispers. He looks down in embarrassment. “Ollie, I’ve wanted you for years. And when you would climb into my bed, only in pants and cuddling me, it hurt to think that it didn’t mean anything from you because it meant everything to me.”_

_“_ You _mean everything to me, love,” Oliver says. He places his hands on either side of Percy’s neck and rubs his thumbs across pale cheeks._

_“More than quidditch?”_

_Oliver shifts and Percy laughs._

_“I...” Oliver swallows. “Can I say you mean as much as quidditch?”_

_Percy’s laugh fades. He blinks slowly. “Do you...do you mean that? I know how you feel about it.”_

_“I do,” Oliver nods enthusiastically. “Percy, you’re brilliant and handsome and fun—_

_“What a lie!”_

_“—and I want you, too,” he finishes. Oliver realizes they’ve been pressed against each other since Percy tried to run out and something warms in him at how content they were to just talk and lean into each other. “I don’t want to rush you, I’m fine with a good snog, but I—_

_Percy cuts him off with another kiss. It’s dirty in a good way, all tongue and teeth and it’s perfect. Oliver uses the door to support how his knees are weakened and thinks about everything he wants to do to Percy._

_“Have you ever been with a bloke?” Percy asks breathlessly. He moans when Oliver licks a strip up his neck._

_“A muggle boy, last summer,” Oliver confides. “You?”_

_“No, just Penelope.”_

_“Does it bother you that I have?”_

_“I don’t think so,” Percy says. “It might make things better for us. And even though I don’t know much, I know what I want you to do to me.”_

_Oliver licks his lips. “And that is?”_

_Percy beams and Oliver thinks he might be in love._

When Oliver blinks back to reality, Percy is shaking his head and coloring. Maybe he was reliving the same memory. “Maybe George, Ron, and I can figure it out.”

“Tell me more, about everything,” Oliver insists, and then he listens to the ideas about silent fireworks and using patronuses for anxiety. They lay twisted together for almost an hour, taking turns speaking and talking about what happened during the war if it isn’t directly about the war. That leaves Oliver to spend most of the conversation telling Percy about quidditch (in truth, that’s what he wants to talk about anyway).

“Speaking of tonight’s game,” Percy cuts Oliver off when Oliver takes a breath. “We should make an actual appearance at the party. We’re toasting to Fred’s memory.”

Oliver doesn’t want to leave this room, where he’s currently got Percy propped up on his chest. The man looks like he could disappear with the moonlight and Oliver thinks if they leave, he might not get Percy back.

“Alright,” he says anyway, because Fred’s memory is dear, and Percy needs this. “Before we go, though, you know I have to ask: what does this mean for us?”

Percy leans down to kiss Oliver once. It’s short and sweet. “I want you to be my boyfriend. I want to fight for rights. I want to be an openly gay man and take you on dates and hold your hand at parties. I meant it when I said that I love you, Ollie. I never stopped.”

And then Oliver is kissing Percy and trying to touch him everywhere he can manage _because they’re together and they’re alive and they’re in love._

**)-(**

Oliver thinks back to what it was like to room with Percy.

They’re the only two Gryffindor boys in their year, and they enjoy having the space for studying and relaxing all at once. Percy sets up a desk facing the window over the mountains, Oliver has a large plush chair for reading quidditch books. In later years, his uniform is always hanging on display next to his broom. Percy might as well have his own personal library.

Though first year is a trial as they learn to adjust, they do learn. They find a system where their lives become interwoven. By the end of the second year, Oliver thinks Percy is his best mate. They somehow know everything about each other and the way they live. Percy helps Oliver with his homework and Oliver makes sure that Percy remembers to eat when studying.

Eventually, he realizes that Percy has a lot of anxiety about being perfect. His brothers hate it and tease him, but Percy can’t breathe sometimes. Red hair falls out in clumps and Oliver starts replacing Percy’s fingers with his own, massaging the scalp and whispering that _it’s alright, the homework can wait,_ Oliver won’t let him forget. He holds Percy’s face and breathes with him until the other boy falls asleep nuzzling Oliver’s hands.

Oliver pretends it doesn’t make his stomach flip after his hormones make themselves known.

When Percy’s anxiety isn’t attacking him, they move their beds closer together and fall asleep talking. Those nights are Oliver’s favorite—and not only because they sometimes doze off holding hands.

One of the great things about Percy, Oliver soon learns, is that he supports quidditch. He goes to every game and cheers Oliver on. He helps research new techniques and old strategies late into the night, always telling Oliver that he’s going to be the best keeper in Britain. Oliver hasn’t ever had someone who believes in him or supports him as much as Percy. He loves his dad, but the old man wants Oliver to be a “real adult” with “realistic dreams.” Percy thinks Oliver’s quidditch dreams are realistic.

In sixth year, Percy tries dating Penelope Clearwater. Oliver hates the idea at first, but Percy doesn’t stop studying in the dormitory or helping Oliver with homework of any kind. They sometimes still fall asleep in each other’s beds and Oliver thinks Percy might love him more than Penelope.

Selfishly, he’s okay with that.

Something happens though, and Percy breaks up with Penelope in a fidgeting mess. It’s only days later that she’s petrified, and Oliver secretly struggles with guilt at thinking negatively about her. Percy is a mess of guilt as well, since she’d decided to patrol the corridors alone because they weren’t together. Oliver eases into Percy’s bed that night, their legs twisting together and his hands massaging Percy’s scalp to ease the oncoming attack. That’s the first night he presses a kiss to Percy’s temple and makes promises he can’t keep about Penelope being safe.

That night, he goes to the common room to sit by the fire. Percy’s finally asleep, but Oliver can’t get there. Shuffling through the common room portrait comes Fred and George.

“Captain,” George says with a mock-salute. He doesn’t know the twins outside of quidditch or their treatment of Percy—two differing views. He loves quidditch and their talent, but he’s not very close to anyone aside from Percy.

“You look tired,” Fred comments. “Percy keep you up raving about the basilisk petrifying prefects now?”

“What does it matter that it’s a prefect?” Oliver frowns. “She was his girlfriend, Fred.”

The twins glance at each other before Fred tilts his head. “That’s why Percy is upset, yeah?”

“No,” Oliver snaps. “She was his girlfriend, and they split on good terms, so they were friends. He’s scared because someone he cares about has been petrified. Do you really think so low of him?”

Fred opens his mouth to speak, but George pulls at his twins arm. “Nah. Don’t reckon we know him enough to judge that. Night, Oliver.”

Oliver goes back to the dormitory and slides into Percy’s bed. The redhead makes a small noise at being disrupted but snuggles into Oliver’s chest and dozes off.

Something in Oliver’s gut twists and he wishes the twins understood.

The end of the year comes and a whole mess comes to light about Ginny being possessed. Percy somehow thinks its his fault and vows that he will look out for his brothers and sisters better. Oliver loves that about him and knows he’ll follow through.

By this point, Oliver has reached maximum capacity of comfort/leisure in his best friend’s presence. As the term draws to a relaxed close due to finals being cancelled (or as relaxed as it can be for the Weasley’s), he trains and reads and demands Percy’s attention. At night, he falls into Percy’s bed in nothing but pants and snuggles up, demanding that Percy read him _Quidditch Through the Ages_ to get to sleep. Percy usually huffs and complies.

In the days before they leave for the summer, things feel less comfortable.

Percy gets grumpy. Oliver asks if its because of everything with Ginny, but Percy says that’s not it. He doesn’t explain himself, only spends less time in the room and doesn’t go to bed until Oliver is already asleep. He eats when Oliver pushes him to, but otherwise tries to skip meals and avoid Oliver all together.

Oliver confronts him.

“We’re mates,” he reminds Percy. “Best mates. We know everything about each other. I’ve slept in your bed after panic attacks, we normally spend all of our free time together! We know everything about each other and I know when something is wrong. What have I done?”

“Ollie...”

“Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll leave.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Percy groans. He looks at Oliver with something that darkens blue eyes, his gaze traveling over his bare torso. Percy looks vulnerable and flushed, drawing something odd from Oliver. “I’m gay, Oliver. I’m gay.”

And then he says he _wants_ Oliver.

It makes sense to Oliver, then. The fluttering stomach when Percy nuzzles his hands or the dry mouth when Percy walks out of the shower in a towel because he’s forgot his clothes. It explains the jealousy of Penelope and how he sometimes thinks about the smell of Percy’s hair or how beautiful he is when he sleeps.

So he kisses Percy, and everything is brilliant. They spend their last night of sixth year tangled in Percy’s sheets and fucking like they’ll never see each other again. They don’t talk about it, but they pack up and ride the train home together. That train ride is spent in a locked compartment, shedding their clothes and forgetting all other responsibilities so they can snog until they hit King’s Cross.

A summer apart; no letters.

Oliver begins to think Percy hates him now.

Until—

Until he comes back to Hogwarts. Percy is Head Boy, but they decide they’re together. It doesn’t matter that it’s a secret, that some people would want them dead for loving each other. What matters is that everything changes for the good and nothing changes for the bad. Their lives are the same, except now Oliver calms Percy down with kisses across his wet eyes and they make love afterwards. Their lives are the same, except now Percy tempts Oliver away from quidditch practice by biting his ear and begging to be fucked in an oddly delicate whisper.

Seventh year is the best year of his life. He loves and fucks Percy, they do well on finals, and Harry helps Oliver win the quidditch cup. The victory is sweet because Puddlemere United representatives watch, say they want him, and Oliver cries. He and Percy run back to the dorm to celebrate.

Hogwarts will always be the place they fell in love. Where they hid from the world and worshipped each other in different ways. Hogwarts is home because of that.

**)-(**

“Ollie?”

Oliver looks up from his meditative state by the tea kettle. It’s the morning after George’s charity quidditch match. (They ended up at Oliver’s place, unable to go separate ways just yet.) Percy no longer looks otherworldly or vaguely like some Scottish god under moonlight. Instead, he looks sleepy. His hair doesn’t know which way it wants to lay, and his glasses are tilted. Oliver isn’t sure the angle matters, however, as Percy carries the ‘morning squint’ and most likely can’t see a thing. He’s wearing Oliver’s sweater and flannel bottoms.

He’s beautiful.

“Good morning, love,” Ollie says lightly. “I was just about to run and get breakfast at the bakery ‘round the corner.”

Percy pads over to where Oliver stands and wraps him in a hug. Percy, however tall he and his family are, is still only able to tuck his head into Oliver’s neck. “Why were you looking so deep in thought?”

“Thinking about you, about Hogwarts. Even before we kissed for the first time, we always had our own little world there. It never felt like anyone could interfere. I spent more time out of the year with you than anyone else.”

“Half the time, I didn’t see the new to interact with others. I had you, I sometimes had my siblings. I had my duties. I didn’t need anything else.”

“And Penelope?”

“Poor girl deserved better than me trying to get over you.”

“Impossible feat, that. I’m an excellent quidditch player and roguishly handsome.”

Percy’s lips find Oliver’s neck. He nips the skin playfully. “Nobody else stood a chance.”

Oliver warms, all the way to his fingertips. “Careful now; do you want breakfast?”

“I’d like something...”

Oliver grins, and ends up going out for lunch instead.

**)-(**

“Darling, you’ve met my family,” Percy sighs dramatically before looking at his watch.

“Yes, but as a quidditch captain or old school friend,” Oliver points out. He smooths down his hair again. “Not as a boyfriend. You know I never got ‘round to telling my Da about me, he was so traditional. This is an adjustment for me.”

“I know,” Percy offers. They stop outside the door and he leans close to Oliver. “I love you, darling. Nothing else matters.”

They kiss. Oliver wastes no time in sliding his hands over Percy’s waist, slipping his fingertips beneath the sweater to brush bare skin. The redhead parts his lips and suddenly, Oliver doesn’t care about anything except how Percy still tastes like mint toothpaste hours after brushing his teeth. They pull apart and he rests their foreheads together.

“I love you too, Percy. I’m ready.”

“We could always go back.” Percy kisses Oliver again. “It’s only been a week, we haven’t had enough time catching up.”

They kiss again. Oliver is helpless, pulling at Percy’s clothes and trying to get closer, even as they stand on the doorstep. He wonders if it’ll ever be enough. He wants more of Percy, all of him truthfully.

“We need to stop,” Percy whimpers as Oliver bites into his neck. Oliver feels nails scratching at the base of his neck—that’s Percy’s sign that he’s getting worked up. “Or I’ll not go inside.”

“I’m sure there’s a broom shed somewhere around here?”

“So that someone can walk past it while we make love? I think not.”

Oliver bites down on his boyfriend’s pulse point and Percy melts.

“Fuck, Ollie...” Percy moans and his head falls back for better access. “Why can’t I control myself around you?”

_It isn’t unusual for friends and loved ones to come to quidditch practice. Percy has watched Oliver many times, choosing to be in the stands with a book. He’s always claimed that he monitored the Gryffindor practices as a prefect (things could sometimes get out of hand in the stands or on the field)._

_Now that Oliver spends every night tangled up with the Head Boy, however, practice is difficult. He’ll glanced down to where Percy sits (“Behind you, I can see your bum and the intensity of your coaching,” Percy is red every time he says something like this. “And I can see the other fans.”). One look at his secret-boyfriend and Oliver is reminded of sex in the showers after everyone else leaves practice or the way Percy looks at him over dinner when the upright Head Boy plans on breaking a few rules._

_Oliver thinks his obsession might be unhealthy, when he’s so busy thinking about the way moonlight changes the color of Percy’s eyes, that he doesn’t see how Fred misses blocking the bludger and it sails right into the side of his head._

_When he comes to, he sees the backside of Percy. Something in him wants to sleepily rise up and pinch it, but he thinks the other boy would be angry, especially as he’s currently ushering a gaggle of girls out of the hospital wing._

_“Wood needs rest, ladies,” Percy said. “And you all have classes to attend to. You can come back and wish him well later.”_

_The girls giggle but go on their way. Percy huffs and turns around. At the sight of Oliver with eyes open, he breathes a sigh of relief. “My darling.”_

_Oliver is sure his heart stops when Percy calls him that. Always ‘darling’ but never “my darling.”_

_“You look worried,” Oliver croaks. He pushes himself into a sitting position. “Your anxiety—_

_“I’m fine, Ollie,” Percy assures him. He comes to the bedside and cradles Oliver’s face. The touch makes his head spin. “You should be worrying about yourself. Madame Pomfrey said if you didn’t wake up by this evening, she was going to send you to St. Mungo’s.”_

_“I’m fine.” Oliver turns to kiss the hand against his face. “Fit as a fiddle, love.”_

_Percy glances over his shoulder. Deciding it’s safe, he leans down for a kiss. Its soft, more tender than any kiss they’ve shared while fully awake, and Oliver definitely loves him. He doesn’t say anything because he knows of Percy’s struggle with emotion, but it’s true. He smiles into the kiss._

_“I need to go get Madame Pomfrey from the Great Hall,” Percy murmurs. “You should look at your cards and candies. Every girl in the school has taken a fancy to you.”_

_“Are you jealous, love?”_

_Percy’s ears go red. “No.”_

_Oliver snakes his arm out with expert precision and tugs Percy’s body into the bed. He yelps, looking affronted, but Oliver kisses him, and all protest dies. Percy climbs fully into the bed, moaning when Oliver reaches for his bum and pulls him closer. “We’re being reckless.”_

_“I don’t care,” Oliver says. Percy’s hands reach for the loose hospital trousers. “I don’t believe you care much either.”_

_“Why can’t I control myself?” Percy looks irritated. “You’ve slipped me a love potion, haven’t you?”_

_“I’m just that irresistible.” Oliver feels confident until Percy’s hand is around him and stroking him to attention. “Fuck, Percy, you’re incredible.”_

_They kiss again._

_Oliver is in love._

“Oliver!”

Percy gasps and pulls away from Oliver’s lips. They’re both flushed, and Oliver is thrilled he’s got a longer coat on because he’s hard in his trousers. Percy has practically been grinding into him and he feels like a teenager in the Hospital Wing again. “Mrs. Weasley!”

“It’s so lovely to see you!” Molly cries and pulls him into a hug. He tilts his hips back so that she doesn’t notice his little problem and is thankful her presence is quickly making it go away. She distracts him with a whisper of “Percy’s been so happy this week, since you’ve got back together. Thank you, sweetie.”

As they enter the Burrow, Oliver knows that the Weasley siblings can tell what he and Percy have been up to. They snigger at the pair and ask Percy if he’s okay, if he’s flushed from feeling unwell. Oliver is too delighted that they’re teasing and not mocking or showing that they disapprove.

“Dad,” Percy says nervously. Oliver turns and see Arthur Weasley walking into the room. “You remember Oliver?”

“Excellent match last week, Oliver,” Arthur greets. “I’ll have to get out to more of your games.”

“Percy’s been to every bloody one,” George comments.

Percy colors. “Not every single one.”

“Since Oliver started playing, from what I hear.”

“Yes, well,” Percy says. “Oliver is quite good.”

“I’d be better if Ginny would come play with me,” Oliver says. He looks to the only Weasley sister. “I’ve not seen flying like that since Harry got his firebolt. You’ll come play after you finish school, yeah?”

Ginny is clearly pleased to have been called out. “We’ll see how many offers I get. I could be a Harpy, you know.”

“Damn you, Weasley, leaving me out to dry.”

Oliver soon finds it easy to be part of the Weasley family dinner. There are enough conversations happening around the table that he doesn’t feel like the focus of anything. He just sits next to Percy and eats the best potatoes he’s ever had. He can tell the interactions between Percy and his family are completely different than they used to be. A tightness used to surround Percy when he was around them, especially Fred and George. Now, however, he sits directly across from George and sends his brother smiles willingly. There are fewer disapproving frowns and more laughs.

After dinner, Percy and Oliver sneak up to his room and fall onto the bed. They lay in the dark, letting the window bring cool air in and enjoying the view. Below them, Harry and Ginny are wondering through the garden. Oliver thinks he sees Ron and Hermione on a broom in the distance. He knows the rest of the Weasley’s are drinking hot chocolate in the living room. The understanding that everyone is where they wish to be, content and loved and safe, settles something odd over Oliver’s skin. Almost like a pleasant dream that you can’t (and don’t want to) shake away.

“Thank you for ringing me here,” Oliver whispers lightly. Percy is beside him, ethereal and achingly beautiful again. “It’s warm and safe, you know? Nowhere has felt like this since Hogwarts.”

Percy looks surprised. “You’ve always been so protective of me, I wasn’t sure that you would be happy here.”

“I finally see what Harry used to mean when he spoke about the love here,” Oliver admits. “It was always my dad and me. I never had a real family unit. Seeing you tonight, I think I understand that they were…you know, flawed, but that you’ve all learned. I used to think they didn’t care about your happiness, but the first thing your mum said to me was a ‘thank you’ for making you happy.”

“You only ever had my side of the story,” Percy sighs.

“I’m still your champion. They never took time to ask or understand your motives, always just assumed, and they were wrong for it.”

“And now?”

“Now…the war is over, and attitudes are changed. You have to forget your pride, they have to drop their assumptions. I should forget my bitterness over a hurt that wasn’t mine to take. I feel at home here. More like, at home with you, actually.”

He pauses, thinking of how home was Hogwarts because of Percy. Now he sees the Burrow and its people as home.

“Percy, _you’re my home_.”

Percy sits up then. He seems to have been electrocuted into a thought. “Ollie, you know how I only feel fun and spontaneous with you?”

“I was trying to be romantic, but yes, lets change topics.”

Percy purses his lips.

Oliver relents. “Yes, its been discussed that I bring something out in you.”

“Always,” Percy says serious _. Forever so serious_. “I want to...I want to do something spontaneous, but utterly sincere. With you.”

“Alright?”

“Although it’s unusual, it’s not forbidden by law in the wizarding community. Hold on, that’s not how this should start. I believe that you and I, Ollie, we are…never-ending. I’ve loved you since I was thirteen, and nobody else. I never chose to move on because I don’t want to love anybody else. I want to love you. Erm, always. ‘til death do us part.”

Oliver’s eyes widen, and he sits up with Percy as well. His heart is in his throat. “Percy, love...”

“Marry me, Oliver,” Percy breathes. Their hands find each other. “Marry me. We can wear Muggle clothes and get married on a quidditch field—”

“Pitch,” Oliver interrupts weakly.

“On a quidditch pitch, then, whatever you’d like, but...yes, that’s all. Marry me.”

There isn’t a thought—a moment, a breath— _nothing_ stopping Oliver from saying yes.

So he does.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm maywildflowers on tumblr. hit me up for a trash can of my faves


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